


Wicked Twisted Road

by badgerling



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 11:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/343493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badgerling/pseuds/badgerling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cameron desperately wants some kind of human contact while on the Odyssey, it bleeds over once that whole situation is settled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wicked Twisted Road

**Author's Note:**

> The Daniel/Vala and Sam/Teal'c, but only in so much as it happens in canon.

The only inconvenient thing about doing this up against the wall was that there was no way for Cameron to get a really good grip. The walls were too smooth, too uniform, but the only other option was on the floor. That had the same problem, plus he had a titanium pin in his knee that didn't really like being in the position for too long. It started to hurt like hell, and it started to be a distraction.

Like now, and thinking about not being able to hold on to something. The most Cameron could do was press his fingers against the wall hard until the tips of them turned white. He knew he should say something about that, eventually, but he and Jackson... Well, they don't really talk. Ever. Besides, deep down, Cameron knew he'd never sacrifice this, the closeness that wouldn't feel the same on the floor. This way, he could feel the heat of Jackson against his back, the tight hand on his hip holding him steady and pulling him back all at once. He'd miss the warm press of Jackson's mouth against his shoulder.

Closest thing to a kiss for the two of them.

As fucked up as that was.

Cameron wanted more. Cameron always wanted more - more time around Jackson, more time with his team, more of a life beyond dying in a spaceship one long minute after another. But it was, by necessity, always this way. Quick, hard, dirty, and secretive, with Jackson’s face pressed against Cameron's shoulder to muffle his moans and babbling in a language that may have been Ancient or maybe just really muffled English, and Cameron biting his lip so hard it started to bleed.

The feeling of Jackson's hand pressing harder against his hip, hard enough that Cameron knew there'd be little finger-shaped bruises there in a couple of hours, was the only thing that finally pulled Cameron out of his thoughts. Just in time to feel Jackson press closer, just in time to feel the other man tense and thrust hard, burying himself completely inside Cameron. One hand stayed on Cameron's hip, the other arm wrapped around his waist, pulling Cameron closer to him as he came, warmth spreading through Cameron that made his eyes clench shut and his body press back against Jackson.

He didn't even realize he was still hard until Jackson's hand wrapped around his dick, his fingers tight and warm, and Cameron could feel each callous. That more than anything made him groan, made him push his body back against the feeling of Jackson at his back and forward into the feeling of his hand. He wanted to tell Jackson to stop, or, really, wanted to want to tell Jackson to stop. That he didn't have to do this. This, whatever it was, had never been about give and take, not to Cameron, but all that came out was another moan as his head fell back against Jackson's shoulder.

He felt rather than heard a laugh from the other man, a rumble of sound that he felt move up from Jackson's belly and across his own back. That was the sound that sent him tumbling over the edge, coming hard enough to see little white stars in front of his eyes. By the time his vision cleared, his head had fallen forward to rest against the wall, and Jackson had already slid out of him. He shook his head at the sudden lack of warmth at his back and the sudden chill of the ship seeping into him.

Cameron glanced over his shoulder at Jackson, watching the other man button his pants and fix his clothes, brushing away any sign that they might have been doing something beyond just talking or planning or being friendly. Not that anyone ever did any of that anymore, not really, and certainly not honestly. He turned around, leaning his shoulders back against the wall as he pulled his own pants back up, fastening them. He didn't bother with his belt, though, mostly because that felt like it would take some fine motor control that Cameron didn't know if he had at the moment.

A part of Cameron wanted to go back to pretending, back to believing that this is normal. That _they_ were normal, that they could go back to their room after and actually be _them_. Jackson wasn't looking at him, not really. He had focused his eyes where the floor met the wall as he worked on cleaning his glasses. Nervous habit. Cameron knew that, and he also knew what was coming. What always happened right now, after they were done, after the clean-up, before they returned to civilized life. Jackson cleared his throat, finished with his glasses, and pushed them up the bridge of his nose before he opened his mouth to speak.

"Well. We're certainly never doing that again," Jackson said, and something about it seemed more final than the other times he'd said the same damn thing in the same damn supply closet. Maybe it was the little half-smile that almost looked apologetic. Were his eyes sad? Cameron couldn't tell. The glasses always masked the emotions.

Cameron swallowed as he leaned back against the wall again and forced his eyes closed. "Yeah? This different from the last time? And the time before that?" He tried to make it a joke, something sarcastic to soothe any ruffled feathers or hurt feelings, but mostly he just sounded tired. And resigned. He'd known, really known, that this couldn't last forever. Things like this, done in secret and never, ever talked about, they never lasted.

He opened his eyes to find Jackson staring at him again. For a man who was usually so expressive, finding him looking so...blank was jarring. The smile was gone, and so was the sad look, whether it was real or imagined. Cameron smiled, then, very faintly, and only one corner of his mouth actually turned up. He waved away his words. Or tried.

"No, yeah, I get it." He did. Cameron really, really understood. This was never supposed to be anything more than something to pass the time. Once, just once, and then it turned into twice, then more. He was the idiot for getting attached. "Figure you and Vala are about to get horizontal the way you're dancing around each other anyway," Cameron said, fighting to keep his voice neutral bordering on jovial.

Jackson sighed, reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose. "She doesn't have anything to do with this," he said, gesturing between Cameron and himself. He hadn't denied it, though, and that was really all the confirmation that Cameron needed. He knew they weren't doing anything yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time. Vala usually got what she wanted, and it wasn't like Jackson wasn't interested. Cameron gave him a skeptical look just the same, and Jackson sighed at him the same way he always did. Like when Cameron touched something he shouldn't or pissed off the wrong space pirate.

"Still not really interested in being the other woman. So to speak," Cameron said in response to that sigh. He shook his head and took a deep breath. He was trying to make this not hurt. Jackson wasn't really his lover, Cameron was not a jilted boyfriend. It was just a fling, and it was ending. It felt like more than that, like Jackson was Cameron's last point of human contact in the world, and he was about to lose it. He lifted his chin, though, pressing his hands behind his back, standing at parade rest even though he didn't need to.

Jackson was frowning at him now, his face no longer blank, and when he turned his head just slightly, canting it as he studied him, that was when Cameron could almost see the sad look in his eyes again, the look that made Cameron think that maybe he wasn't alone in getting too attached to this. Be it the sex or just the contact. After moment, though, Daniel nodded just enough that the light caught his eyes perfectly.

They were just clear. Clear and blue, no real emotion that Cameron could identify in them.

"I should..." Daniel trailed off, gesturing at the door. He had translating to do. Books to read. Databases to catalog. Work to do.

"Right. And I got..." Well, he didn't really have anything. That's the problem with being a pilot standing still as the ship inched toward a fiery, gruesome death. "Well. You know." Cameron would find something. He hadn't been running in a couple of days. His leg was already starting to feel stiff. Jackson still wasn't leaving, standing halfway between the door and Cameron.

The longer he stayed, the harder this would be. Cameron knew that, Jackson had to know. It was obvious. Of course, once Jackson actually stepped toward the door, Cameron still said, quickly before he could leave, "Daniel."

It was the name more than Cameron's voice that stopped him. It had been Cameron's idea that when they were like this, they should just stick to Jackson and Mitchell. It made things easier. Less complicated. He hadn't even called Jackson 'Sunshine' the entire time they were there. Jackson turned back to face him, his eyes narrowed slightly, crease between his eyebrows because this was obviously different behavior than normal.

Cameron wasn't reckless. Not really. But he also knew that when a person hit rock bottom, then it wasn't like they had anything left to lose. It wasn't like he had to worry about ruining his friendship with Jackson, and once the whole thing with Vala inevitably started, it wasn't like he was going to see Jackson all that often. That was the thought that spurred him forward, his hand reaching out and catching Jackson's wrist.

He pulled the other man back toward him, and Jackson didn't fight him on it. Not even when Cameron covered the distance between them and pressed his mouth to Jackson's. At first, Jackson was completely still, possibly shocked by Cameron breaking two of their unofficial rules, but that only lasted a moment before he relaxed into Cameron, head tilting, lips parting just slightly.

And that was close enough to an invitation for Cameron. He kept his other hand on Jackson's wrist, not really needing it to hold him into the kiss, but Cameron found himself weirdly fascinated by the shift in Jackson's heartbeat. From slow and steady to hard and racing. Cameron willed himself not to read too much into that, not now, not when he was trying so hard to make this the best first(/last) kiss ever.

He brought his other hand up, brushing the back of his fingers over Jackson's jaw, feeling the faint trace of stubble there, something that only made him groan and press forward, his arm moving around Jackson's shoulders, his fingers sliding into the short hairs on the back of his neck. Cameron was trying to hold on to something, and he had to take his hand off of Jackson's wrist to grip the other's t-shirt at the shoulder.

Jackson's hands came down, one arm wrapping around Cameron's waist as the other ended up on the back of his neck, urging Cameron even closer until all he could feel was Jackson's mouth and hands and the heat of him. When their tongue's touched Cameron was pretty sure he saw stars again, and he shifted his weight, needing to be closer, wanting to be closer. He felt rather than heard Jackson moan into the kiss. Or maybe growl. It all felt that same, it all sent tiny shivers down Cameron's spine and pooled in his groin.

His teeth nipped at Jackson's lips, gently at first, then a little harder as Jackson pushed him against the wall again. When Jackson's hands came down to Cameron's hips, it was only to push Cameron harder against the wall, and to push himself back away from Cameron. They were both breathing hard at this point, Jackson's glasses a little fogged up, Cameron's face starting to ache where the glasses had dug into his own skin. None of that mattered, though.

Not when Jackson placed his hands on the wall on either side of Cameron's head. His head was bowed, his breathing coming in short harsh gasps, and Cameron had to fight to keep his hands down at his own side and not reach for the other man again. When Jackson lifted his head, his mouth was dangerously close to Cameron's again. It was all Cameron could to close his eyes and press his head back harder against the wall.

He wasn't sure how long Jackson stayed there, and Cameron didn't even realize he was holding his breath until Jackson pulled away completely. The sudden lack of warmth made Cameron sag against the wall, his head falling forward this time. He heard Jackson move toward the door, heard the door open, and he called out Jackson's name before he heard him step outside.

"If you say it's been fun, I swear to God...," and Cameron could almost hear a smile in Jackson's voice. Almost. Like he was only teasing. Like saying that was the only way to break the tension.

When Cameron opened his eyes and looked up, Jackson was looking at him again. Not confused this time, but a little wary, like he was worried Cameron was going to grab him again, like he wasn't sure what he'd do if Cameron did. Cameron smiled then, a genuine one, and for a moment he just looked at Jackson. Memorizing him.

"Thank you," he finally said. Thanks for being there. Thanks for making this a little less unbearable. He said all of that with a shrug, as he let his head fall forward again. Jackson didn't say anything, and after a minute, he heard Jackson as he stepped through the doorway and moved down the hall. Cameron stayed where he was, though, leaning back against the wall, his head bowed, and he wasn't entirely sure how long he stayed there.

He didn't move until he heard heavy footsteps in the doorway, until he heard Teal'c ask, "Colonel Mitchell?"

He still didn't lift his head, though, he just said, "Yeah, T?" Cameron knew it wasn't something urgent, nothing life-threatening. They were already in a life-threatening situation. Couldn't get any worse.

"I was considering sparring." It wasn't technically an offer, but there was no other reason for Teal'c to say anything. Cameron lifted his head and opened his eyes to look at where Teal'c was standing in the doorway, his eyebrows lifted slightly.

"Hey, whaddya know. So was I," Cameron said as he pushed off the wall and joined Teal'c at the door. Anything was better than sitting and brooding. Thinking too much about Jackson was dangerous, thinking too much about Vala, and Jackson and Vala, about their situation, about all of it, that was dangerous. It was better to move, to fight, to feel like he was doing _something_.

Hours later, or days, or weeks, (or months? Cameron was starting to lose count, and he knew that wasn't good) when Cameron had turned to running because fighting wasn't doing enough anymore, when he passed Jackson's room to hear the door swish open, he skidded to a stop. He turned, expecting Jackson but seeing Vala. Ruffled, still half-undressed Vala, practically glowing and even he could see she looked beautiful, and all he could think was that it felt and tasted like defeat.

Like he'd lost a war he hadn't even been aware he was fighting.

Weeks later, or months, or years, (or, shit, decades?), when they finally had a plan, when Cameron could barely move because the pin in his leg hurt so damn much, he was standing in front of Teal'c, watching the man go over Sam's plan, and all he could think was that it should be him. Hit rock bottom, got nothing to lose, right?

"You don't have to do this, man," he said, his voice shaking and catching on the words, and he hated, absolutely hated, the weakness that was inherent in that.

"You would not survive, Colonel Mitchell." It was the same thing Sam had said, same thing they'd all said every time one of them had offered that wasn't Teal'c.

"It ain't like I'm gonna miss something, right? You, though...you got Sam. Jackson's got his girl. Whole life ahead of you," Cameron replied, rehashing old arguments. They'd been over this multiple times.

"I will still have many years ahead of me, as will you," Teal'c said in response, and that was the way it always went. Cameron made his most logical argument about why he should be the one on a suicide mission, Teal'c made his most patient reply about why it will be him. That's the way it always was.

Right up until the day it all shifted.

Decades earlier, or years, or months, or days, Cameron found himself standing right in front of Jackson's office. The door wasn't shut, not entirely, but it was obvious that Jackson wanted privacy. He could hear a muffled voice on the other side, and he really hadn't meant to eavesdrop. It couldn't be helped, though. There was just something about the sound of Jackson's voice.

"Fifty years, Jack. That's what Teal'c said. A whole...lifetime." He sounded tired. Exhausted, actually, and Cameron could relate. Just the thought of being stuck on the ship for any period of time, it made his leg ache. "Yeah. Figured he told you. He won't...can't even hint vaguely at anything with us, you know. It's going to drive Vala and Mitchell crazy." Not really him, actually. Cameron was fine with not knowing. He could already guess how it all worked out anyway, and no one needed to relive that.

Cameron nudged the door open with his knee, standing just on the other side of the threshold. Jackson glanced up, staring at him for a moment before gesturing for him to come inside the room. Cameron stepped through the door, pulling it shut behind him, and he moved over to the worktable in the center of the room. Jackson looked at him questionably, but all Cameron did was shrug and gesture for Jackson to return to his phone call. Jackson just shook his head.

Cameron could hear O'Neill's voice distantly on the other end. Not enough to actually pick out words, but enough to know he trying not to just explain what had happened, everything Teal'c had told him. Jackson focused on the phone for a second before finally saying, "I know, Jack. I _know_." O'Neill said something else, and Jackson checked his watch before nodding. Then as if remembering that O'Neill couldn't see him, he added, "Right. I'll see you in a couple of days, then?" Cameron heard O'Neill agree, then the click of the phone as he hung up without saying goodbye.

Jackson hung up the phone like that was business as usual with Jack O'Neill. Which Cameron figured it probably was. He heard Jackson clear his throat, and Cameron looked up from the worktable to lift his eyebrows slightly. "O'Neill's coming here?" He tried not to sound nervous. He tried not to sound like this was going to be some kind of yearly review because if it was, it probably wasn't going to end well. He'd nearly lost most of SG-1 more than once.

"He figures it would be easier to get the official report from Teal'c this way, rather than trust a courier. Plus it's Jack. He worries," Jackson said with a shrug, like, obviously, O'Neill worried about everyone! Cameron had his doubts about whether O'Neill really cared about him, beyond Cameron being able to keep SG-1, _O'Neill's team_ , alive.

"Worries about _you_ ," Cameron replied, but he was smiling faintly, and it was just teasing. He knew O'Neill worried about Sam, too, and Teal'c, but he was just as sure that he and Vala did not measure up to any of that.

"He asked about you, actually. Said it was some kind of...'flyboy intuition," and Jackson actual made finger quotes around those words. When he looked back at Cameron, Jackson's face softened slightly and he continued, "He thought you might not have handled being up there for so long." Cameron was almost touched by that, but the prospect of O'Neill knowing him that well, it was a little startling. Not that Cameron should have been _that_ surprised. He was well on his way to living Jack O'Neill's life anyway, full of broken promises and half-serious threats of retirement.

"Not like it matters, right? Can't remember it, never happened, all that stuff," Cameron said, actually waving away both his own thoughts and O'Neill's concern. "How're you handling it?" He figured it would be about the same. Figured that either it wouldn't bother Jackson in the slightest or, like Cameron, he'd just keep it all inside until it exploded.

Jackson laughed, the sound soft, short, and almost...bitter? Cameron used to be better at reading people, but all he could do now was look at Jackson in confusion. "I keep having these moments where I think about all the things I haven't done yet. All the things I need to finish, and then I think about what Teal'c said. Fifty years on a ship, a life I can't even remember, and I start trying to figure out where to start _doing_ something..." He trailed off with a shrug. "Which is ridiculous. Nothing is different, nothing's changed. It's just..."

"Status quo," Cameron finished with a nod. Jackson nodded as well before focusing on the papers on his desk, shuffling them mindlessly, giving himself something to do with his hands. Obviously that conversation was now over. Neither one of them really wanted to talk about it, so Cameron really wasn't caught off-guard when Jackson looked up at him expectantly. Cameron obviously wanted something. Needed something. Why else would he be there?

Except Cameron didn't exactly know what he was doing there. He just didn't have anywhere else to be. They had a few days off, time to unwind, time to deal with what may or may not have happened. So all he could do was shrug.

"Don't really feel like hanging out here. Thinking about going and getting something to eat?" He made it a question, an open ended invitation. That wasn't actually what he'd intended to say, but it was what came out. And it would do. Even not knowing the specifics of what had happened, only being able to guess and make assumptions, it had left Cameron with some kind of weird equilibrium problem. Like the world had turned upside down.

And mostly, he just wanted company. Needed it. Needed to feel like he wasn't dying on some ship in the middle of nowhere. Jackson hadn't taken him up on the offer, and he was looking around at the books and the files, the stuff he needed to do, and Cameron knew it was just going to be him with some burgers and beer. Even Teal'c had other things to do, Sam was distracted with the Asgard drive, and Vala...was Vala and her idea of fun did not mesh well with Cameron's.

Then Jackson nodded, tossing his pen on the desk and rose to his feet. "Honestly? I'm feeling a little claustrophobic." Cameron couldn't help but grin, lifting his eyebrows as he stepped back to the door.

"Hunan House?" He reached back and flipped off the office lights as Jackson came closer.

"You keep trying to get me there, Mitchell. I'm starting to worry." Even in the dark office, Cameron could hear the laugh in his voice.

"Hell, someone recommended it years ago. Haven't had a chance to try it." No use explaining that it was another Jackson from another world. As Jackson stepped past him, Cameron reached out, grabbing Jackson's wrist, something that stopped the other man short, and Cameron really wasn't sure why he'd done that, why that one touch sent a shock through him. He glanced at the office door, knowing that the nearest guard was several doors down, that the only light in the room came from under the door, and knowing that with the lights out, the cameras were useless.

That gave him enough courage to step around the little sliver of light, to move closer to Jackson. He could tell in what dim light there was that Jackson's head was tilted, his eyes narrowed slightly, that he probably had that little crease between his eyebrows that was way more attractive than it should have been. Cameron was still smiling, widely as he covered the distance between him and Jackson, kissing the other man just as he opened his mouth to ask what Cameron was doing.

Jackson didn't kiss him back. He actually pushed Cameron away, and for a moment, Cameron was pretty sure he was about to get punched. No, punching wasn't really Jackson's style. Shot. Yeah, he was definitely about to get shot. Instead, he heard Jackson cough and move, slightly, just enough that Cameron could hear his BDUs shifting in the quiet of the office.

"What was that?" Jackson said, speaking quietly, because, obviously, being in the dark meant one had to whisper.

Cameron shrugged, until he remembered that Jackson couldn't exactly see him in the dark. "Um." This was so far from the reaction he had been expecting, because Cameron had braced himself for pain of some kind, be it a gunshot, a punch, or just getting shoved out the door. He hadn't actually tried to have a reason for what he'd just done. So he just shrugged again and left it at that.

"Right. Thanks for stopping by," and it was clear at that point that he was being dismissed, but Cameron didn't move, not even when Jackson stepped by him, obviously going for the door or the light switch. Cameron really did not want him reaching either of those things.

He cleared his throat and said, just as Jackson pushed passed him, his shoulder bumping Cameron's in the dark, "I'm tired of standing still." That made Jackson stop, his shoulder still pressed against Cameron's. He didn't say anything, but Cameron imagined that Jackson's head turned toward him, just slightly. "I get that that whole...thing never happened, that it wasn't real, and that it might never happen. I _get_ that." He blinked, making a face. "I kinda get that." He took a deep breath. "But the thought of it is driving me batty and not in the way you probably think it is."

"What way do you think-..." But Cameron touched Jackson's shoulder to get him to stop.

"I'm on a roll, yeah? Let me finish." It took him a second to get back on that train of thought, and he didn't take his hand away from Jackson's shoulder. "It's not the not knowing, okay? I can deal with that. There's whole galaxies of information out there that I'm never gonna know. It's..." He frowned, exhaling slowly before he finished, "It's dying alone in space, just like dying alone in Antarctica. It's the idea of not being able to do anything to stop it."

"You can now." It wasn't a question. "Change things." And, Cameron realized, maybe Jackson really did understand. Cameron didn't bother to respond, knowing the other man would take his silence as agreement. "Was that all that was?"

"Oh, yeah, you know me, kissing people just to shake things up," Cameron said before he could stop himself. One of these days, his mouth was going to get him in trouble. His grandmother had always said that. "Look, you want to punch me or kick me out, go ahead. Hell, you want to shoot me, I'll go get my sidea-..."

Cameron didn't get a chance to even finish that thought before he felt Jackson move. his weight shifting closer. He felt Jackson's hand on the back of his neck, and the rest of his sentence was swallowed in the kiss the followed. When Jackson pulled away, Cameron had a little trouble even forming a coherent thought, let alone a complete sentence.

Jackson didn't take his hand off Cameron's neck, and that was definitely a distraction, one that made it difficult to even put two and two together when Jackson asked, "Was that all it was?"

Cameron took a deep breath before replying, "Fuck. No."

He felt Jackson move closer as he said, "Good," but the word was mostly muffled when Jackson kissed him again. Deeper this time, harder, the solid weight of the other man moving them both back, deeper into the dark office until Cameron's back was pressed against the book shelf and all he could taste and feel was Daniel Jackson.  


**Author's Note:**

> Not mine, MGM owns them.


End file.
